


Practice

by ziskandra



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Semi-Clothed Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: Garrus had thought he'd been nervous when he'd first slept with Shepard, but somehow he's even more flustered the second time around.Shepard, on the other hand, is unflappable. Or so he thinks.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	Practice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corina (CorinaLannister)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



If Garrus had been nervous the first time he’d entered Shepard’s quarters, it had nothing on his _second_ visit. When he’d first arrived, the tension in the room was so thick he could slice it with his talons, and Shepard appraised him with a hungry sort of stare that he would have struggled to place on a turian, let alone a _human_ , with their fleshy faces (their fleshy everythings).

He’d brushed it off with his usual humour, fervently hoping he hadn’t misread the situation, their dynamic, the whatever-it-was they were doing here. “Am I just a piece of meat to you?” he’d joked, doing his best to disguise the erratic beat of his heart. Humans couldn’t pick up on turian subvocals without assistance, but Shepard wasn’t entirely human these days. 

Garrus hadn’t needed her to know his body was _screaming_ anxiety.

For the better or the worse, Shepard had responded in kind. The corners of her mouth turned upwards (smile! positive!), as she’d answered, “You know you mean more than that to me, Garrus.”

Had he? Well, they _were_ friends, and they’d promised to blow off steam together once. Maybe twice, now. His voice had rumbled with mock-deprecation in a range she’d definitely be able to hear this time. “I knew it was the scars.”

And just like that, everything had fallen right into place. So much like the first time, and yet _nothing_ like their previous encounter. For starters, he hadn’t even bothered with any cheesy platitudes on fringes or waists. Human mating rituals were different, and he _really_ needed to watch some more of those instructional videos sometime, when he had a moment alone and when he didn’t feel like he was going to expire from embarrassment.

Here he’d thought that having some first-hand experience under his belt would make him less nervous.

Fortunately, Shepard was willing to take the lead just like she had last time. As they brought their heads together first in turian-style touching and then _kissing_ , which Shepard had introduced him to last time (strange, what humans did with their tongues!), she steered them so her back was up against the wall of her room. When they parted for air and Garrus had a chance to look at her, he was struck by just how _small_ she as in relation to him. Strange, for a woman who was so often larger than life (and death) itself.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” she said, and Garrus tilted his head. Had his translator glitched? At his expression, she laughed, and added, “Sorry. Old human hunting idiom. It’s…” She shrugged. She made even the simplest of gestures seem beautiful. “It’s. Well. I already have you right where I want you, don’t I?”

Before Garrus could properly prepare himself for what was coming next, her hands were at his waist and it was like his body was going in overdrive. “Damn, Shepard,” he growled. “Going straight in for the kill.” Maybe her directness shouldn’t have got excited so quickly, but it did. Her actions coupled with her words caused a heavy fog of arousal to settle over him; he could feel his plates shifting eagerly, like he was a young man just out of bootcamp.

Shepard beamed. “See, you’re getting it!” she told him, her hands at his thighs as she struggled to push his clothing out of the way. It was quite different to human garments, he supposed. Their legs did _not_ bend in the same directions.

With a nervous flange to his voice once more, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to move to the bed?”

He still didn’t entirely know how to read the look in Shepard’s eyes. “Nope. I mean. Sure, if you want to, but right here works for me.”

Seemingly having given up on unrobing Garrus for now, Shepard’s hands moved to her own bottoms, which she peeled off with military precision, until she was bare from the waist down.

Garrus swallowed. He was _sure_ she’d been wearing undergarments last time. Did this mean…

“I’m going to be blunt,” Shepard said, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how you felt inside me last time.”

Well. He supposed that answered _that_ particular question. But sometimes answers led to more questions, and this was one of those times. “Uh. How did you want to do this?” he asked. He’d never well, _penetrated_ , someone while wearing quite so many layers before.

Something in Shepard’s eyes twinkled. “Think you can support my weight?”

“I, uh, think so?” Garrus answered. Truth be told, there was only one way to find out. He wasn’t sure if this was in the brochure of recommended sexual intercourse positions for human-turian couplings, but if there was anyone he felt comfortable exploring new positions (species!) with, it was Shepard.

She was a quick learner. Quicker than him, in any case. Her fingers found the seams in his plates and pried them open wider, until she was teasing out his cock, gleaming with pre-ejaculate and flushed a deep, heavy purple. “All right,” she told him, “Once I get into position, I’m going to need you to hold my legs.”

“Right,” Garrus answered, finding himself unable to form any further coherent thoughts.

Shepard stood on the tips of her toes, gently urging him to squat slightly so she could get the right angle, and he wasn’t even entirely sure how she managed it except through sheer grit and determination, but before he knew it, she’d lined her entrance up with his erection and Garrus found himself immersed in tight, wet, _alien_ heat. Not that he had a particularly extensive range of experiences with which to compare, but it was no secret that humans ran hotter than turians, and it was never so obvious as it was now. Even their lubrication felt different, although the overall effect was the same.

Finding their rhythm together provided a small degree of difficulty. Garrus had to flex his legs in time with the gyration of her hips. Maybe it was more instinctual to humans, but he found himself half-starting calculations in his head: if he did this at this interval and Shepard moved at _that_ average weight…

… they began to move in tandem, and Garrus realised he wouldn’t last for much longer, despite the awkwardness of the position. “Shepard, I—” he started with every intention of warning her, but then she did the one thing that could guarantee he’d finish immediately at a time like this.

She touched his fringe.

Before he could say anything, he felt himself release inside her and she stilled as she rode out of the wave of his orgasm. “Shepard,” he tried again, but sentences were still hard.

“Shh,” she said, placing a gentle finger against his mouth. “Don’t tell me you don’t have quickies where you’re from.”

Garrus laughed, feeling any embarrassment he might have felt from finishing too soon sloughing off his shoulders. “We might have a similar concept. There’s usually a bit more ritual involved.”

“The human ritual usually involves a lot of tongue wagging,” Shepard said, before drawing Garrus in for another kiss. There had been an innuendo in there somewhere, he thought.

They finally pulled apart, Garrus sliding out of Shepard and moving to pull his clothes back on. She laid a hand on his wrist, biting her lip. Wait. He knew this one. Was _she_ nervous?

“If you have nothing else on tonight, I wouldn’t say no to more _practice_ ,” she said.

His heart felt like it was about to soar. “For you?” he answered. “Any time.”


End file.
